


Therapy Gone Wrong

by Legendary_Map_Maker



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Parody, Persona 5 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendary_Map_Maker/pseuds/Legendary_Map_Maker
Summary: Joker has recommended therapy for all of his friends, even Lavenza. Upon meeting the therapist, she begins to tell him of the time she was torn in two. Understandably, a random, regular human would be very concerned about a child who refers to someone as "Master."
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Therapy Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think anything in this story requires a content warning, but the jokes in it may bring to mind uncomfortable things. This is the last warning mentioning that there will be jokes that are, bordering on being, in poor taste.
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated!

Lavenza arrived at the therapist's office. “Hello sir, I was recommended to see you by-:”

“Let me guess,” the therapist said, “Ren Amamiya?”

“Indeed. How did you know?”

“A lot of my patients are sent by him,” the therapist answered. “That boy has a good heart.”

“Yes, my Trickster does,” Lavenza said with an innocent smile.

“Your Trickster?” the therapist asked.

“Oh, yes. There is quite the story behind him. He-:”

“Wait, we should do introductions first. Then, we can get started on our session.” There was also usually paperwork, but he had a system set-up to skip it for those recommended by Ren. That system being that this fanfic would be very boring if the first 3000 words were about confidentiality contracts. “I'm Doctor Therapist.”

“Oh, I was under the impression therapist was a title, not a name.”

“Well, I had it legally changed after I started my career.” Left unspoken was his reasoning for it; it helped break the ice and get a laugh out of even the most nervous patients. Except for one girl with orange hair. Somehow, she already knew his name, address, and blood type.

“Interesting. I was unaware humans changed their names... My name is Lavenza.”

“Lavenza...” He waited for a last name.

“Yes, Lavenza.”

“Okay... Well, one last thing before we start. I want you to know everything you say is confidential _unless_ there is something for which I would need to notify the authorities.”

“That is excellent news, as much about the Velvet Room is to be kept secret.”

“Velvet Room? Sorry, I shouldn't lead the conversation like this. What was it you came here to discuss?”

“When I was split in two by a malevolent will.”

Red flag. “Um... what do you mean when you say 'split in two'?”

“An imposter who had swindled my master's name used magic to devastate my corporeal form.”

Another red flag. Servants had masters. Slaves had masters. Children had parents. “Master? What do you mean by master. Is... is this like a game, or make-believe?” Dr. Therapist really hoped it was just make-believe.

“No. While the Velvet Room exists between dream and reality, mind and matter, it is very real,” Lavenza explained matter-of-factly.

“Erm... one moment. There is a phone call I need to make. I... meant to make it earlier. Would you excuse me a moment.” He pulled out his phone and called the building's receptionist. Into it, he whisper-yelled “Clear my schedule for today. We have a code red!”

“Red?” Lavenza asked. “I believe the color I am wearing is called blue. It is the color of the Velvet Room, after all. Although, it was not as blue when it was a prison.”

“Did the speaker catch what she said?”

“It did,” the receptionist answered. “Child Protection Services will be on their way.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. Back to Lavenza, he said “Okay, now, if you want to stop at any moment, if telling about these events get's too difficult, you may stop at any time, okay? You're safe here.”

“I never felt a cognition of danger in this room, but I thank you for the assurance.”

Dr. Therapist handed her a stack of blank paper and some crayons. “If it helps, you can draw what happened.”

“Oh, these are crayons, correct? The Trickster gave me a set once! For some reason, scraping them against these flimsy sheets is an enjoyable experience.”

Dr. Therapist held his head in his hand. “Ren... why didn't you send her sooner...”

Lavenza held up a collection of stick figures and pointed to each one. She explained it to the doctor and the two agents from something called CPS. “This is me, this is my Trickster, and this is the two mes he needed to put together.

“And these-” Lavenza held up a different drawing, this one being of a few messy rectangles, “-are the guillotines the Trickster used to put me back together.”

“My God...” Dr. Therapist mumbled, “They forced him to kill your twin?”

“No, he used it to recombine my two halves,” Lavenza clarified.

Dr. Therapist began to cry. “They made you eat her!”

One of the agents patted him on the back. “There, there... we're going to fix this, remember?”

Dr. Therapist sniffled. “I know...”

Lavenza recalled Ren explaining that, sometimes, there was crying when meeting with a therapist, but his phrasing implied it was the visitor who was expected to shed tears. Maybe she misheard him, she thought as she looked at the sobbing human.

“My siblings have had a lot of guests, but the Trickster was going to be my first,” Lavenza explained as she happily doodled stick-figure drawings of her siblings. The blue crayon she used, once a nearly full stick, was now little more than a pebble. The other crayons, aside from the black she used to draw Ren, were left untouched.

“To clarify, your siblings are Margaret with the temper, Elizabeth, the black sheep who escap- er, I mean, left, and Theodore, the man who was poisoned,” Dr. Therapist asked.

“He was not poisoned. Elizabeth just fed him a substance referred to as motor oil. I snuck a sip of it myself afterwards, and I can confirm it has a foul taste.” Lavenza didn't notice their reactions, but she did realize something. “Oh, I believe I was informed these sessions have a time limit. How long until I am to leave?”

“Take as much time as you need...” said one of the agents. “Now, what do you do for your guests?”

“Each attendant provides different services. For example...”

Ren showed up at Dr. Therapist's office. “Hey Lavenza, your siblings told me to tell you they're waiting for you at-:” He noticed the two CPS agents. “Who are you guys?”

“Hello, Trickster!” Lavenza cheered with a wave. She held up a scribbly drawing resembling Yaldabaoth. “They said he resembled a chicken. It is rather funny to compare him to such a weak creature!”

“Ren!” Dr. Therapist cheered. “I need to speak with you!” Dr. Therapist took Ren to just outside the office, standing in the hallway. “Okay, first of all, you don't need to worry about Lavenza. If her master tries to hurt her again-:”

“What?” Ren was confused. “Igor doesn't hurt her.”

“You know his name, good. If you have a last name, we can track him down!” Ren was so lost. “Now, it's been difficult to decipher her story. We believe her brain has created delusions and false memories to repress the trauma she's been through.”

A CPS agent ran by them.

“What's going on?” Dr. Therapist asked.

“We asked how often she eats, and now we're buying her a bunch of happy meals from Big Bang Burger!”

How often did she eat? Ren was under the impression people from the Velvet Room didn't need food. As the agent ran away, Ren yelled after them “She doesn't like pickles! And she already has a toy spaceship!”

“Noted!”

Ren turned back toward Dr. Therapist. “I think you misunderstand.”

“That's why it's great you're here. You can explain what she's trying to say. Another theory of ours is the imposter is actually the man she calls master, who you called Igor, claiming to be someone else so she will continue to trust him after-:”

“You _really_ seem to misunderstand...”

“You're right. You're right. I should let you explain, and we can theorize to fill in any remaining holes. Although, I do have one question I want answered first. She said you were her first guest, why would you go to a place like the Velvet Room?”

“I was forced to,” Ren explained. Considering what they heard, and how they very obviously misunderstood it, he wondered what they would think if he mentioned he only visited the Velvet Room in his dreams.

“My God...” Dr. Therapist muttered. “Not even their customers want to be there...”

Ren had no idea what was going through the man's mind. “Can we talk about this later? Her siblings are starting to worry about her.”

“You can tell them she'll be safe. At least, the ones you can trust. We'll need to find out which have also been victimized, and which were accomplices... We'll put her with a foster family for now.”

“That's not a good idea,” Ren said. He remembered the time he amassed his army of “siblings”---such as Futaba, Shinya, Sumire, and Jose---and joked about adopting them all while he was adding Lavenza to the group. The rulers of power did not think he was joking, and they did not like the idea. Why did everyone take everything he said so literally? “We tried adopting her, and it didn't go well.”

“Did they blackmail you! Threaten you!”

“They attacked.”

“What do you mean we can't see our sister!”

Three people dressed in blue with silver hair and yellow eyes surrounded Dr. Therapist. They each carried a large book with them; they held it like a weapon.

“Listen, we just think... she's sick. Yeah, and we don't want to risk any of you catching it.” Dr. Therapist laughed nervously.

“Your lies are rather transparent, human,” the short-haired woman said. She withdrew a card from her book, in a manner that implied it was a threat. “Although not nearly as so as your fear.”

The silver-haired man withdrew a card as well. “We demand to see our sister. If she truly is harmed in any way, our powers will heal her.”

The long-haired woman floated toward Dr. Therapist. She dropped her book, and it followed behind her midair. Cards spilled out from it, and they circled around her. She grabbed one and crushed it in her hand. A translucent monster manifested behind her. She and the beast glared at him. “No human will take our sister away...”

Ren walked passed a construction crew who were repairing a ruined hallway. He stepped into Dr. Therapist's office. The man sat at a wheelchair behind his desk. Each of his limbs were in a cast.

“I warned you.”

“So...” Dr. Therapist said weakly, “When she was talking about magic, there was actually magic...”

“Yeah.”

“Her entire story was literal, wasn't it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you recommended her so we could help her with the trauma of being split in half, not to get her away from her master.”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Therapist coughed. “If she decides to come back, tell her the next session will be more focused on the relevant issues.”

“I think I'm going to recommend someone else to her. Someone I can convince of the paranormal parts of her story.” He didn't know if Dr. Takemi did therapy, but he was sure it would go better than what happened with Dr. Therapist.

“Thank you. Don't tell them I said this, but I never want to meet her siblings again...”

A flash of blue light occurred as the short-haired woman appeared out of no where. “The feeling is mutual.”

Even after the woman disappeared---through a similar flash of light---Dr. Therapist continued to scream. Ren decided to walk away, the man still screaming in the distance as he left.

Waiting outside for him was his talking cat, Morgana. “So, think he'll be any good?”

“About that...” Ren began. If Dr. Therapist couldn't handle Lavenza, he severely doubted the man could handle Morgana, even with Ren as the interpreter. “I think you should have a different therapist.”

“Alright... but you better not take me to the vet again!”

Ren scooped up his cat. “I won't. Pancakes?”

“Is that even a question,” Morgana said with a smirk.

After everything that happened, Dr. Therapist was happy to have a relaxing day with paperwork. At least, so he expected before there was a knock on his office door. “It's open!”

With a scowl on his face, the missing Detective Prince Goro Akechi stepped through the doorway. “Get the hardest drink you have, I have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh, I prefer my patients to be sober.”

“It seems you misunderstood...” Akechi laughed. “You're the one who's going to need to be drunk...”

Dr. Therapist retired the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This story was inspired by some jokes a friend and I were making. We joked about Lavenza getting therapy after being split in two, and realized that anything she told the therapist would likely sound rather concerning. I considered not posting it, but my friend convinced me to after they read it.


End file.
